


February 29

by literallywhat



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Bellamy, Cancer, Character Death, F/M, Happy Ending, M/M, bi clarke even though it isn't established, i think, murphy's gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:18:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literallywhat/pseuds/literallywhat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I smiled at the goofy grin Bellamy had on his face with his arm wrapped around my shoulders as I just scowled. That was when we first came out to all of our friends. Raven insisted that we had to take a picture for her to take with her to college. She gave everyone a copy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	February 29

I woke up; my head was spinning like crazy. “Bell…Bell-” my vision went blurry as I desperately tried to reach the bathroom. I missed by two feet and vomited on the floor. “Fuck.” My voice was rough.

Bellamy was snoring, he only did that when he was really tired—he wasn’t going to wake up. I decided to leave it for Bellamy to clean up in the morning. I went to his side of the bed and looked through his stuff, looking for a mint, but I found a book instead. A small book, a journal. And a few old pictures of us.

I smiled at the goofy grin Bellamy had on his face with his arm wrapped around my shoulders as I just scowled. That was when we first came out to all of our friends. Raven insisted that we had to take a picture for her to take with her to college. She gave everyone a copy. _Damn I was cute then_. It was taken on the same day that the picture on our wall was taken, but I was smiling in that one, looking at Bellamy with a little too much admiration.

I waddled to my side of the bed, still feeling a little bit dizzy, and cracked open his journal so I could pry into his life more than he wanted me to. There were a few odd doodles, most of them involving space—he always wanted to go to space. After a few pages of stars and planets I found myself looking at dated events with little passages underneath.

I tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh. _Bellamy Blake_ had a _diary_.

**February 29, 2016,**

**Murphy would never let me live this down if he found this journal. Murphy doesn’t like talking about “serious things” especially when it pertains to him, so to get everything out, I’m just gonna write it here…we went to the doctors a while ago, Murph was feeling sick. The results just got back today, and he has cancer. He tried to hide it from me, but I could tell something was wrong by the look on his face. I know him better than he thinks I do. Better than he wants me to.**

_I hung up the phone and I knew my face had no color in it. The front door swung open with a “Honey, I’m home!” coming from Bell. I quickly put my phone down, and desperately tried to stop my shaking, but he knew something was wrong._

_“Murph, you okay? Why are you shaking so bad?”_

_“Uh,” usually I was quick with my responses, especially when I needed to lie, but I was just so shocked and scared that I couldn’t for the life of me think of something._

_“Murphy.” Bellamy was then holding my arms. I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t responding. “Murphy, what happened?”_

_“Nothing.” I shook my head and pulled away from him, heading to the kitchen. “I just was thinking about my mom…you know, how she drank herself to death…” I cringed at my own shit excuse, but my back was to him, and he couldn’t see my face._

_“I know that’s not it.”_

_“No, it is.”_

_“Then look at me and tell me.”_

_I turned to him, avoiding eye contact, “Bell, I-”_

_“_ John _.” I looked into his eyes and immediately broke down crying. I hated myself for it. I didn’t want to look weak in front of him. But I couldn’t do it. I cried in his arms and told him the doctor said I have cancer. Fucking cancer._

My face softened, my laughter had faded into a guilty breath. I put my hand on his back and rubbed in small circles, just how he liked, and then decided to keep reading.

**March 15, 2016,**

**Murphy and I got into a fight today. He was smoking, and his excuse was “well I’m dying anyway.” Then he said something like “trash doesn’t die”. I know he was joking, but I don’t want him thinking like that. Thinking he’s going to die. I don’t want him to believe it, because then I’ll start believing it.**

_“Murphy! What the hell are you doing?”_

_I heard a booming voice call from behind me, making me jump and drop the cigarette I was holding._

_“What?” I called back, slightly annoyed._

_"What the fuck is that? You can’t be smoking, Murphy, you’re sick.”_

_“Well I’m gonna die anyway, Bell. Why not speed up the process.” I joked, but Bellamy just ran his hands over his face. “Hey, trash doesn’t die…it just gets recycled.” I smiled, trying to fix my mistake, but to no avail. That’s when Bellamy broke down and started crying. He fell to the floor, and I fell with him. He fell asleep in my arms, so I stayed with him on the floor for the rest of the night._

I bit my lip and muttered out a “sorry”.

**March 16, 2016,**

**Murphy’s trying to refuse treatment. We’re supposed to start on the 20th. He better come to his senses before then. I can’t lose him to this.**

_“Bellamy!” I yelled as I threw down whatever the hell I was holding in my hand. “I told you, I’m not doing chemo!”_ _Bellamy opened his mouth to respond, but I kept talking. “I’ll lose my hair. You know how bad I would look bald?” And for the second night in a row, Bellamy Blake broke down crying. I decided to go through with treatment._

I silently cursed as tears sprung to my eyes. I put my hand on the stop of my head, little stubbles, my hair was growing back. The next couple of pages were filled with mine and his drawings from when I was in chemo. Bellamy’s drawings were cute, and mine were crude. I smiled as a little laugh escaped. “At least you stopped writing the fucking diary, Bell.” I muttered and skipped to a random page. There was no date. Just words.

**Murphy doesn’t feel good. Not the vomiting he experiences often now, but he doesn’t feel good emotionally. He refuses to go anywhere without his hat, I still haven’t seen him without that stupid beanie. No matter how many times I tell him I don’t care what he looks like, he won’t take it off. He won’t let me see him naked, he said he lost too much weight and he looked gross, but he is usually up to giving me a blowjob…I haven’t been up to it lately, besides, the last time didn’t turn out well. The doctor said there is little progress so far, and it’s been a while, so I don’t know what to make of it.**

_My mouth was wrapped around his dick, and his hand came to the back of my head. I was silently praying for him to not take my beanie off. I was distracted, and didn’t notice I hadn’t felt well until I had the sudden urge to vomit. I pulled away, my hat almost slipping off, and I threw up on our bedroom floor. Bellamy cleaned it up, got me water and a cool rag. He held me for the rest of the night. We didn’t say anything._

The writing stopped. There weren’t many doodles, just little “I love you”’s written throughout the pages. I laughed through my tears and folded the book. I placed it on my pillow and stood up.

My vomit was no longer on the floor, and our picture was no longer on the wall. A picture of him and Clarke stood proud and sad in place of our old one. I found the other picture back in the drawer along with my prayer card he got at the funeral. I gave the picture a soft smile, and turned to Bell. “Thanks for not burying me in my hat, you dick.” I muttered through my tears. I kissed him on the cheek, wet with my tears. “I love you.”

-

“Bell?” A soft voice pulled me out of my sleep.

I grumbled something that was similar to a “what” as I rolled onto my back. “Clarke? You’re supposed to be at work.”

“Yeah, but they let me go early, so I’m home now.” She smiled and kissed me on my cheek. It felt wet.

She went into the bathroom that was attached to our bedroom and began to remove her makeup and get ready for bed. I cracked my back and stretched out. My hand hit something hard. Lying on Clarke’s pillow was my old journal.

“Hey, babe?” I called out.

“Yeah?” She poked her head out of the door, half her face with makeup and the other half without. I laughed a little.

“What’s my old journal doing out?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just got home like a minute ago. I ate some food and came up here. I knew if I even touched the bed I would fall asleep. You probably had it out before you fell asleep.”

“Yeah…probably.” I gave her a half smile as I put the journal away. Clarke walked over to me, makeup wipe in one hand, makeup still only on half of her face, and kissed me.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Clarke. Now finish getting ready for bed so I can go back to bed. I have to be up at five tomorrow.” I smiled and lay back down. I heard her laugh as she made her way back to the bathroom.

“It’s 4:40 right now, Bell.”

“Oh, fuck you.” I laughed and threw my pillow at her.

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based off of the song "I See Everything" by La Dispute. Please leave me comments letting me know how I can improve, I'm kinda new to writing fan fiction. Thank you for reading!


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